When Science Met Magic
by Vanwilder
Summary: Self Insert. Hopefully new. I find myself in the body of one Hermione Granger. Hijinks ensue.
1. In which I visit Diagon Alley

I was completely flabbergasted. You would be too, if you suddenly found yourself in the well organised mind and body of one Hermione Jean Granger, living at number 42, Prusley road, Crawley, London, with her two parents who worked as dentists.

It started innocently enough. Today morning, I got a call from a friend for a study session that was promised earlier. As it usually happens, I completely forgot about it till about five minutes before ETA. It was a disaster of epic proportions. Some students may look at me in horror and say, "But, but, but, STUDY!? Books!? Why were you in so much hurry for _that_?" Well, the call was from the hottest girl in my school, and she was having problems in more than one subjects, so I had expected to be at her house for about two hours. Forgive a teenager for being hormonal.

Anyway, as I said, I was on the brink of being late, and _that_ in this case was as criminal as high treason. So, when I got outside to my bike, I had naturally forgotten my keys. Another round trip, and the phone was nowhere to be found. Needless to say, I was at the brink of getting bald pulling my hair out in anxiety.

After all was said and found, I started ten minutes later than I should have _arrived._ Yeah, I drove like a demon was chasing me. I am not proud of it, but I was seldom below 50Kmph. I usually drive around 30Kmph, and yes, you can probably imagine my ride was very adventurous. Also, did I mention that I live in India? Yes, that pot-hole filled, cow wandering India.

Is it any wonder that I was hit by a truck?

The very next thing I know, I am sleeping, with a cover over my body, and the room is dark. But I am feeling all sorts of wrong. Now, when I usually wake up, I have the usual wake up call waiting for me, which has me rushing to the bathroom to avoid any accidents. But there was no pressure there. No, that's wrong, the pressure was there but nothing being long and uncomfortably hard attached to it. A quick look, and my heart nearly stopped.

But then I noticed that my hands were too small, my fat tummy all but gone (And wasn't that a relief), and my eyes were seeing clearly without my glasses, and, yeah, I was pretty much going into shock. Thank god that it was around 2 AM here when my eyes opened, as I would have be in pretty deep trouble if Hermione's parents had arrived to talk to me.

It took me around an hour to stop panicking and start thinking logically. I started trying to put everything I knew into perspective. Now, I am no Ronald Weasley in logical reasoning and deduction, so it quickly became clear that whatever the hell happened to me had something to do with that accident.

I have heard that people usually hallucinate when inside a coma. That was a very obvious and troubling conclusion. The other thought my mind scrapped up was that I had what I will call 'switched minds' with a younger person, who was very obviously a female. After a while of just laying there thinking, I started going through, now my own, possessions, thinking about who I was. Even as I started seeing things, they began to feel familiar to me, as if they had been with me all my life. I didn't feel that I was living with two complete strangers, I was living with 'Mom' and 'Dad,' just like I had done all my life. Funny, it was _then_ that I realized what my name was. I think that name is such a fundamental part of who you are that one big hammer blow was needed to make the change. I was again starting to panic about my name, but then realized that there could have been any number of Hermione Granger in London. In Crawley. Having two parents as dentists. Bushy brown hair. A little big front teeth. Perfect teacher's pet. Yeah, I was doomed.

Then I had a brief ray of hope, of sunshine, that maybe there was no magical world hidden away. After all, the chances of magic being real was infinitely smaller as compared to me just being a Muggle Hermione as described in canon.

The hope survived till breakfast, when a prim and proper stereotypical looking Witch, with graying hair in a tight bun and mouth pressed into a thin line entered our home. Apparently, I am a magical; or a Witch. There is a Diagon Alley where a perfectly shrewd species called Goblins handle the Wizarding money in a bank called Gringotts. There is a school up north named Hogwarts which teaches young witches and wizards the art of magic. Needless to say, my parents were overwhelmed and getting very angry when the witch pulled out her wand and changed the table into a cat. Nobody could dispute _that_ as anything but magic.

Now, my parents are of a fairly open mind. So, I was soon accepted into Hogwarts and on the way to Diagon Alley.

Now, an important fact for Hermione till last night was that her parents were noticeably absent in her life. Their place was taken up by books and teachers, in that order. So it was that Hermione Granger, newly christened Muggleborn Witch, was following a step behind the stern Professor Minerva Mcgonagall, walking deeper and deeper inside Diagon Alley without any of her parents.

It wasn't that they didn't love her. It was that they were not a very compatible couple, and stayed together for her sake. Slowly but surely, in their sub-conscious thoughts, they realised that she was the reason they were trapped into this false façade of a loving family. So, they were always distanced from her, in a way. She learnt riding bicycles from her neighbourhood kids, reading was a necessity to overcome boredom. She wasn't a very outgoing type of person, and neither am I. No one she would honestly call a friend, but some upperclass students helped her in studies and liked her for her intellect.

Lost in thought, we arrived at Gringotts, and I was appropriately terrified of those little blighters. A part of my mind noted that I was able to walk easily, without stumbling. It was actually much easier to walk without the junk between my legs.

The older Witch held out the Muggle pounds given by Dad, to be changed to Wizarding currency. Then we exited the bank, much to my relief. I am very much terrified by the very idea of rollercoasters, and a cart ride was sure to be much more terrifying.

We first went to buy a trunk for Hogwarts. Here, the shitload of fanfiction stories I had read made their thoughts known. While I had no need for a trunk with kitchen, library, parlour, three bedrooms, etc, I still thought that security precautions that could be taken, should be. I was going to make waves in Hogwarts. So I needed to be ready.

While the Professor was busy talking with another wizard near the counter, I slipped away to look at the aisles of trunks, offering different things for different prices and different people. Student trunks came cheaper than others, that didn't mean that they were _cheap_ though. In the end, I decided to go with a trunk with two compartments, one each for clothes and books, and one secret compartment, but not very large. Just for the occasional porn and stuff. Hey, don't judge. I was planning ahead. Paid for it left and left the store. Got the rest of the stuff, and went to buy my wand.

Ollivander tried to scare me as he did with all others, but I merely turned and greeted him politely. Whatever emotion I showed outside, inside I was feeling quite anxious. This was the moment of truth, the point where two very different realities diverged.

My wand was the fifth one I tried. It seemed to _connect_ to something inside him. Like a blind person could suddenly see. Like a deaf person could suddenly hear. It was... awesome is the correct word, but it has lost the charm due to excessive use. It was exhilarating. Yes. It was phenomenal. It was everything you think it must have been, and more.

Well, I _could_ give you the description of my wand, down to every rune engraved on it, but where is the fun in that.

Let yourself get in my place. Touch the most important piece of wood in your life. Feel the runes gently pulse with a very dim light, the core of your wand calling out to you. The almost intimate moment, where you get an extension to yourself, a tool to use, to explore this wonderful and terrible place, with its dragons and unicorns and sixty foot Basilisks, Flying brooms and ancient castles, Philosopher's stone and Resurrection stone, soul sucking demons and reporters (aren't they the same?), Time Turners and invisibility cloaks. Feel the moment, and you will get what I did, then. This is so much better than just telling you what my wand was made of, isn't it? You would never actually realize what it means for a wand to be twelve inches in length and not thirteen, what it means to have a Beech wood wand as compared to a Holly, what it feels to have a Dragon Heartstring core in comparison to a Phoenix feather core.

Went poetic for a moment there...

Anyways, you've been caught up with whatever's happened with me today. Next update'll probably contain more information. Stay tuned!!

 _And then she disabled the dicta-quill, and folded up the diary, to be stored in the hidden compartment of her trunk._


	2. In which I get Sorted

I knew time travelled fast during anticipation, but this was truly insane.

Between study, planning, books, coming to terms that I am a _girl_ , study, and even more study, time was flowing at around one day per hour. I felt as if I had time-travelled to the morning of 1st of September. My parents chose to wait outside the barrier, and I barrelled through the connecting link between the two worlds, biting my lips in excitement.

That's one more thing I noticed. I was using more and more mannerisms of Hermione, such as the sitting posture, biting the bottom lip in thought, the occasional bossiness, _et cetra_. I would have been more deeply worried, had I not noticed the thought patterns were entirely mine. I could still remember, as clear as yesterday, how to solve most first order differential equations. I was not losing myself, I was being made into kind of a mixture between Hermione and me.

That was not entirely a bad thing.

Our childhood was nearly the same. Due to switching from place to place every two to five years, I did not get the chance to make any lasting friendships. I was always a quiet kid, who sat around and read a lot. I was (am) not very good in most sports. Logical deduction and reasoning seemed to come naturally to me. While I never utilised this skill in reading people, I was quite good in mathematics.

There were many differences between us as well. While I cannot memorize something to save my life, she was quite good in retaining information. I had very loving and caring parents, who were quite close to one another. I had none of the reverence and respect for authority figures that Hermione possessed. The last but the greatest, Hermione was a _girl_ , while I was a _boy_.

Puberty would be _interesting_ , to say the least.

The train starts, and a boy around my age enters my compartment. He is sort of cute, with sandy brown hair, carrying a heavy trunk and holding a cage with his toad. I am introduced to Neville Longbottom.

The train jostles suddenly, and the toad takes this opportunity to escape its prison.

So _that's_ how it happened... Well, we went outside to search for it. I purposely didn't suggest the _accio_ charm, I after all wanted to meet Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. I had read many books on him, just to see if there was any major difference between my memories and this timeline. I hadn't found any. Yet.

We finally found a compartment with two boys my age in it. One was a redhead, the other had piercing green eyes hidden behind broken glasses. We were introduced to each other. He looked surprised when I showed no visible reaction upon hearing his name.

I said, "So Harry, I read all these books about how you defeated a dragon at 8 years of age, and how you are the Heir to the Founders of Hogwarts... Any of it true?"

He again looked surprised, but then grinned. I guess he appreciated some normalcy in this world.

"Nope." He replied with the cheerfulness normally seen in a boy who got the ice cream after whining for hours.

"Oh well. It was very nice meeting you then, but we do need to find Trevor the Toad before he jumps off the train, going splat."

"Yeah, my gran always knew how to find him. I wanted to learn the spell, but she won't teach me." Neville whined.

"Hey wait, I know some magic!" Exclaimed Weasley, and then mumbled the same ridiculous poem that he had in canon. The Traitor rat stayed greyish in colour.

Cue the door opening, and entry of a blond haired _ponce_. Yes he _looked_ the part of a ponce, and I knew it without hearing a single word he said.

He had two kids flanking him, who were both more fat than muscle.

His first words just proved how true my prediction was.

"I heard Harry Potter is in this carriage... I am Draco, Heir to the Noble" I snorted "House of Malfoy." Then he looked at me, like I was barely above cockroach in his list of important things. "Find something funny, do you? Never seen you in any important parties. Are you a Mudblood?"

"Ah, but inbred morons like you do not come up to the level of intelligence required to be my acquaintance. And yes, I am a Newblood, Firstblood, or First-Generation Witch, whichever you prefer."

"I would watch my tongue if I were you, Mudblood. Oh wait, I would kill myself in shame."

Harry intervened between us before any actual fighting could start.

"Draco, you are not needed here. So I suggest you leave."

"Potter, you will find that there are certain people who're in a better standing than these scum you are sitting with. I offer you to join our circles."

"Oy, leave him alone, Malfoy! He doesn't need to be with evil people like you. Right Harry?" the Weasley asked.

"Yes. I prefer those who I am sitting with. You better leave Draco."

"You will regret this decision! Come on, Crabbe, Goyle, let's leave the scum in their hole."

Neville was staring at me like I was the next Merlin, Weasley had an apprehensive look, while Harry just sat there, trying to get the fact that he had not even completed the day before making an enemy.

If you haven't yet noticed, I _really_ do not like Ronald Weasley. One can only abandon his friends in fits of jealousy once, they aren't friends after. Also, Ron had matured and become almost tolerable in book 5, but this wasn't that Ron. So yeah, not impressed at all.

Though I know that all the fanfics I had read _might_ have influenced my thoughts, just the tiniest bits. Okay, you want honesty? They influenced my thoughts a _lot._

We talked a little more, about the various subjects taught and the game of Quidditch. Then Neville and I returned to our compartment. Trevor had been left to fate.

The Food-Trolley had arrived and left. We had stopped conversing a few minutes ago, each absorbed in a book.

It was then the call came, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

I changed into robes, then waited outside while Neville changed.

We left the express together.

*

The journey to the boats was filled with silence and anticipation. The first view of Hogwarts was as breath-taking as written in the books. I gaped with my jaw hanging.

I had a major fear of water due to a past accident, but Hermione was an expert swimmer; so I had mixed feelings on the boat. I did breathe a sigh of relief when I hopped to the shore, and followed Hagrid up the stairs.

The ghosts intrigued me. They were greyish-silver in colour, and were actually quite friendly folks. They congratulated us for being selected in Hogwarts and moved on to the Great Hall.

We waited a few minutes while Malfoy spouted the usual dribble about him being in Slytherin as it was the house of the Noble. Not a few Muggleborns tittered at that. Harry was anxiously waiting as well. I went near him.

"Hey Harry! Nervous?"

"I suppose. Why aren't you a little more nervous?"

"Because I know that no one is stupid enough to challenge us in magic, as we don't know even the easiest spells. I also have memorized every one of the assigned books, so am prepared in case they test our knowledge in theory. And just think, morons like Crabbe and Goyle will also be sorted, so the test shouldn't be tough at all."

He was gaping at me, while Weasley looked scandalised that his brothers had pranked him. Neville was just happy that he had found the ever elusive toad and the test would be easier.

Mcgonagall ccame and escorted us all through the anti-chamber and into the Great Hall.

One cannot truly over estimate the beauty of the Great Hall. The walls seemingly disappeared in the heavens, while thousands of tiny candles were floating above us to create an aura of charm and a halo of Age.

It was mesmerizing. It was stupefying. It was magnificent. Only now did I appreciate the excellent magical works of the Founders, who had put greater part of their lives in giving this school the magnificence it showed.

I wanted to get a blanket, lie down right in the middle of the Hall, and stare at the distant pinpricks of light till I was lost somewhere between them, away from all this selfishness, cruelty, and dishonest posturing of honesty.

Whoa, relax there. Calm. Down. Breathe in. Breathe out. Again, slowly.

Good.

Now, as I was saying, I was fascinated with the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat was brought and our names were called.

Sorting till my name was pretty much canon, as far as I remember atleast. When the Hat dropped on my head, my eyes were covered and a voice spoke in my head. "Why, hello! What do we have here? Oh... Oh my... Well, this _was_ unexpected. I have sorted Time-Travelers before, but never one from another reality.

"Yes, yes indeed. As much as you will fit right in with Ravenclaws, you have to be in Gryffindor for your plans to work. Hmm. Fine, I'll grant you your wish. GRYFFINDOR!" He yelled the last word aloud.

There was some polite clapping by my new Housemates. I was an unknown, after all.

The biggest surprise happened in case of Ronald Weasley. He was sorted in Hufflepuff. I do not know what kind of loyalty the Hat saw in him, nor do I care to find out. He was out of my House, that's all that mattered. Another change I saw was that Malfoy had to spend more than two minutes under the hat to convince it to let him be a Slytherin. Never let it be said that I took revenge flamboyantly. Not at all. I take _subtle_ revenge. The kind where you look back on your last few years and think about how it all went wrong, and I laugh maniacally in my Evil lair. A few people shivered when they looked at me. I wonder why.

It was just the matter of thinking exactly when and where they both had acted decidedly non-gryffindor and non-slytherin, knowing the Hat was looking at them. And if I used a few of the worse ones in fanfiction in place of the canon, none was the wiser.

We were shown to our Common Room by Percy the Prefect Prat, and I went and sat on my bed, thinking and analysing. All in all it was a success. Here's hoping it remains that way.

 _And then she disabled the dicta-quill, and folded up the diary, to be stored in the hidden compartment of her trunk._


	3. In which I live a week in Hogwarts

The first week of Hogwarts was exciting. Whatever you say about the safety standards, or poor decision making in crisis, the teachers sure knew how to teach.

Mcgonagall was as strict as shown in books, hardly ever smiling and looking at you in such a way that you would just _do_ your best; the perfect teacher in my opinion.

If only she was fair with Slytherins as well. It was subtle, but it was there. Just a little more praise to Gryffindors, just a little less frowning in our direction... Every other Gryffindor was very happy with it, of course.

Books portray Snape as a very unfair teacher, and they are right. They just forget to mention the same happened in every other class, if to a lesser extent.

Charms class was the most fun though. You may think that lighting the end of my wand and extinguishing it was a very boring activity. _But_ , it was also the first time I actively used magic.

The sensation was like a stream of water flowing down my arms, just beneath the skin, into the wand. It was _so good_ that I may have gotten a bit high on it.

Binns was as boring as ever. I used that time to sit in the back of the class and complete the assignments.

Sprout was good in her job, but I just wasn't interested. It was like a Geography class, very useful if you went in that field, but none whatsoever outside it. If I wanted to know which fungi was bright yellow in colour and made food in moonlight, I would ask Neville; that's what he was here for.

Quirrel was actually a very good actor. He stuttered through his classes, explaining everything in a very average sort of way. Absolutely nothing he did that made him stand out. I kept my eyes away from his, just as a precaution.

Snape was a very good, if strict teacher of potions. He was just not a very good teacher in general.

He was _very_ partial to Slytherins, and seemed to have a personal grudge for Harry Potter.

Harry, meanwhile, was as bad, if not worse, to Snape. I dunno if it's in the Potter genes or something... I mean, thinking logically, he should have tried to be on his best behavior, seeing that he was bullied before and this was an opportunity to escape it all.

Maybe, Snape really was a bit correct when he said that Harry was arrogant. Just a bit. A teeny-meensy bit. A fraction of a fraction.

Nope, I should still wash my mouth and check myself for mind altering potions. I was _agreeing with Snape_ , for god's sake!

But enough of this pre-pubescent drama.

Let's talk of a perfectly mature thing that me, as an eighteen year old, should be talking about.

I am, of course, talking about how to steal the priceless Philosopher's Stone.

But I know when to admit defeat. The series of traps are beyond me at the moment, and I don't have such good friends that can accompany me. Met Fluffy once, from a distance. He was going towards the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. Nope, never standing in the way of that creature again. So yeah, I don't have the first clue on how to go about it.

I know what you're thinking, _Hermione Granger not knowing what to do_! Yes, miracles do happen.

I, in my previous life, and Hermione, before the Change, were never great plotters. I couldn't think up a convulated plan to steal a candy from the canteen, much less a Philosopher's Stone, and Hermione wasn't any better. So I knew that I had no chance of out-plotting, if that is a word, Dumbledore and Voldemort both; who had both made 'plotting' their goals for life.

I also have another concern. Would the Flamel couple really relinquish their lifeline to anyone else? What if I went to all that trouble, risking discovery, and end up with a convincing fake?

Everyone wants unimaginable riches and a perfect health. But trying to steal that stone, fake or real, could really get me sent to Azkaban, underage or no. Or, a more reasonable punishment would be my expulsion.

Expulsion, while a big change to the canon, shouldn't be as big a threat to me, right?

And it wouldn't be, if it wasn't for the fact that they would erase my memory of everything Magical, and _that_ was so generalized a wording that I just wouldn't risk it. If the Obliviators were as incompetent as every other Ministry employee, and if they just said _that_ in their head when they were pointing a wand at my head...

I could forget everything about the Harry Potter books. I could forget everything about my previous life, as it could be argued that the change of my body was obviously magical. And _that_... that was as good as death, for me atleast. Maybe the original Hermione would get the body back and none would be the wiser.

Nope, not risking it at all.

So I decided to take it slow and easy. Learn obscure charms and read long forgotten tomes in the Library, as an intelligent Gryffindor first-year Muggleborn Witch should. Let them get complacent, and let them be at their thrones of power for a little more time. When the time was right, the take-over would be swift and brutal.

And you must be thinking, _Okay_ _, that just there was a very_ Dark Lord _ish_ _thought. Are you sure you're not going to become one?_

Not at all.

I mean I'm not at all going to become one, not that I am not at all sure. Oh, this stupid Quill...

Why am I so sure? Because I tried being the 'Bad Boy' once. Didn't work out at all. Some gangs, back in my world, still laughed whenever someone mentioned _the Banana Incident_.

No you don't need to know, and believe me when I say that you don't want to, either.

Ahem, back to this reality, life was well in the castle.

The Room of Requirement, the deus-ex-machina of the fifth year, was not a very powerful room. I couldn't get to the 'Heart of Hogwarts,' the room couldn't create useful potions like _Veritaserum_ and _Polyjuice Potion_ , It couldn't create a library of every book that ever came inside Hogwarts, I didn't get to meet the Founders, Time couldn't be controlled by it, It wasn't an access point to any hidden chamber of Ravenclaw, and I tried _very_ hard to find any such use.

I spent a whole evening on the weekend just testing if any of the overpowered clichés that appeared in fanfics so repeatedly was true, but nope. No luck there. I even had the brilliant idea of trying to summon the Philosopher's Stone directly to the Room, as it was inside the castle. But again I recieved a disappointing failure.

The Room of Lost Things was filled with treasure, but I wasn't proficient in any detecting or curse-countering charms, and I wasn't about to risk myself getting cursed with anything. It was also very hard, ignoring the fact that this room had at least one Horcrux, and possibly more.

But, it _did_ provide books for topics like Occlumency and magical dueling, and it provided a safe place to practice them.

So life was indeed good here.

Except Weasley. He was constantly getting on my nerves, and that said something as I was a very mild sort of person. Constantly taunting, poking, eating like a Troll, touching my hair without permission, and a large list of other things.

I have reached a conclusion.

He is a baby who has accidentally drunk a very potent aging potion, and it would run out of steam any day now, revealing him to be a five-year old who just thinks that he is better than everyone.

I mean, it cannot be _normal_ , can it? _Nobody_ is that immature at eleven. Nobody.

Harry Potter looks conflicted, whenever Weasley shows his shenanigans. But perhaps he saw something in him that I didn't, or perhaps he is just reluctant to go against his first friend; whatever the reason, he stays with him though.

Maybe a loud argument with Weasley with special emphasis on his _rudeness_ , and his _bullying_ behavior, in close proximity of Harry, was in order. I wouldn't win any points with him, of course, but maybe he can finally see the truth, and not what he wants to see.

Or, perhaps, Harry really is bidding his time, establishing connections and waiting to exploit them to the maximum extent. The Hat did suggest Slytherin for him, and I am reluctant to discard any theories just yet. A big family implied lot of cannon fodder, who knows?

I couldn't take anything at face value, this was the Magical World.

Well that's about it.

I am not very good in maintaining a gldiary for daily or weekly events, so don't expect to find me ranting about the total lack of sense in Wizards in every update, or me talking about how many House-points I gained in class; I just don't have the sincerity required for any sort of periodic journal keeping.

So this diary will contain only the special events in my life.

Stay tuned for more in the Fascinating Life of Hermione Granger!

 _And then she disabled the dicta-quill, and folded up the diary, to be stored in the hidden compartment of her trunk._


	4. In which I honestly tried to help

Harry and Weasley refuse to end their friendship. And… I have grown to ignore _Ronald_ for now. Hating an eleven year old for things he hasn't even done yet, and probably never will, just seems wrong. Besides, I have more important things to occupy my time, like thinking of the disaster that was my flying lesson.

It started innocently enough, Draco was upto no good as he juggled Neville's remembrall as he was getting ready to fly on his broom. Harry was looking like he was about to follow Draco.

But I had to step in like the moron I was.

See, it wasn't _entirely_ idiotic. I didn't want the entire 'Professor Quirrel trying to kill Harry in the Quidditch match' thing to happen. Also, Harry would have had far less 'accidents' every year, so I thought I was doing him a favour, really.

So I fired a _rictusempra_ in Draco's direction. My bad luck made itself known to me as the spell missed Draco entirely, and instead hit Bulstrode. The other slytherins started firing spells at _us_ , which made the other gryffindors firing at them in retaliation (Or they just fired them on the slytherins on principle for being the 'Dark' house. What do I know?).

Also, did I mention that we were a bunch of hyperactive eleven year olds having little to no practice on the spells we were trying to use? Most of us didn't even know which end of the wand was to be held.

Merlin himself couldn't have stopped this disaster.

So many spells backfired it wasn't even funny anymore.

Because at first their spells didn't work, they started to use much more power to compensate for their lack of skill. I and many other girls promptly ran into the castle to hide from the resulting mayhem.

And then came an angered cry from outside, and we slowly peeked to see McGonagall screaming, "What in the nine blazing moons is going on here?"

Immediately everyone froze. Even among slytherins her temper was known and feared.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing? Where is Madam Hooch?"

"She is in the Hospital Wing with Longbottom," one brave gryffindor mumbled before going back to blowing smoke from his mouth and ears.

McGonagall glared at the poor boy.

"And why are all of you fighting like a particularly stupid group of baboons? Hmm?"

One girl with Antlers promptly pointed her finger at another girl. "She tried to hex me."

And after that it was a mess with everyone shouting and blaming everyone else.

She had to fire a flash-bang hex to make them silent again.

"Who started this?" she hissed through her teeth.

And I watched in horror as everyone slowly pointed at me. One boy with no hands (they had been spelled into birds which flew away) actually used his bloody _feet_.

I gulped.

"I can explain, professor."

She glared. "It better be good, Miss Granger. It better be good."

I gulped again.

She returned the kids back to normal one by one, dismissed them back to their common rooms, and then turned towards me again. Looking at her face I knew I was in some _deep_ trouble.

"You will give your _explanation_ ," she said sarcastically, "in the headmaster's office. Come."

With that, she was away, and I was following her like a lost puppy. This school was a bloody maze, I couldn't figure out where the classrooms were in a bloody month.

We soon reached the Gargoyle, which was as ugly and menacing as I had imagined it, which stepped aside as McGonagall gave it the password.

We rotated through the climbing staircase and reached the door of his office. McGonagall first went inside, fuming so much that I could see steam coming out of her ears.

There was silence for a few minutes, after which I heard a loud laughter coming from Dumbledore, before he abruptly stopped. I smiled. At least someone was having fun in all this.

But then the thought hit me.

I was _not_ Hermione Granger.

I was occupying her body.

And Dumbledore would take about 3.14 seconds in reading my mind and figuring it out.

 _Bloody hell!_ I cursed in my mind.

So when the call to "enter" came, I was a wreck of fear and dread.

Dumbledore must have seen this, because his smile diminished as he said, "No need to worry Miss Granger. If this was an honest mistake, you wouldn't be punished."

I calmed myself, and somehow explained it all to both of them, looking at anything but Dumbledore's eyes.

"I see. An unprovoked attack on a fellow student wasn't the right thing to do, but it is obvious that your heart was in the right place. Unless you are lying?" He asked sternly.

As I started to vehemently deny that statement, he adjusted his glasses. My eyes inadvertently went to see the motion. By the time I realized what I was about to do my eyes had already found his.

My breath hitched. It was all over.

But I didn't see Dumbledore reach for his wand. He frowned, then said "It was all a misunderstanding Professor," he said, addressing McGonagall, "I suggest a deduction of 8 house points. Off you go Miss Granger." He waved towards his door.

McGonagall looked like she had something more to say, but I had my chance and practically ran out of the office.

I entered the common room to a room packed with students.

And then someone started clapping.

And everyone joined in.

"Blimey, Granger! We didn't know we had such a talent right under our nose," one of the Weasley twins said.

"Indeed, my less useful twin. We didn't get our first point deduction till around Halloween. How much did Minnie deduct?"

"Eight," I answered lamely.

"Bloody hell!" they exclaimed in unison.

"You only lost eight points? _Eight bloody points!_ "

"Teach us!"

I was saved from answering by the arrival of Percy. "You shouldn't curse your classmates, Hermione. McGonagall must have been so disappointed," he scolded me.

The twins were making funny faces behind him. I couldn't stifle my laughter. Percy turned around and gave them a disappointed look. "And don't you two even think of encouraging her."

"We wouldn't. Would we Fred?" most-likely-Fred asked.

"I know not why Percival thinks as such, no, George," most-likely-George agreed. Both of them sported identical looks of innocence that didn't even fool Percy.

Between all this drama I managed to slip away into my dormitory.

This was too close an encounter for me.

I still don't know how or why Dumbledore didn't call me out, or even if he knows about _me_ or not, what I do know is that I need to learn Occlumency. And quickly.

 _And then she disabled the dicta-quill, and folded up the diary, to be stored in the hidden compartment of her trunk._

* * *

 ** _AN_** \- My exams are over! Now I can go back to focusing more on the stories!

 _Lectio Beatus_!


End file.
